


Ghosts From the Past

by pseudonym123



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, F/M, Natasha Needs a Hug, Natasha Romanov-centric, Oneshot, POV Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:18:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4017772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudonym123/pseuds/pseudonym123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natalia Romanov and James Barnes had once been two assassins in love. They taught each other what it was to be human after so much time spent being monsters, but nothing lasts forever, except maybe the feeling it gave you. </p><p>This is true for Natasha, who has never forgotten the boy with the beautiful blue eyes that didn't match with his cold metal arm. When the Winter Soldier kills Nick Fury, Natasha realizes that ghosts from your past will haunt you no matter how far you run or how hard you try to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts From the Past

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a BuckyNat Captain America: The Winter Soldier fic. It really focuses on their past together, though. That's really all! Please enjoy!

Natasha couldn’t believe what she was seeing. That couldn’t be Nick Fury lying there on that operating table with all those machines hooked up to him. It just couldn’t. Nobody could take down Nick Fury. And yet reality stared unflinchingly back at her from the other side of the glass.

She was hoping somewhere in her mind that this was all just a dream. She didn’t remember deciding to speak, but somehow she heard her own voice ask Steve, “Is he gonna make it?” Her body was staying calm, keeping her voice even and her breathing level even as her mind began to break down.

“I don’t know,” Steve answered grimly. There was something else in his voice, more than just solemnity. A little alarm in the back of her mind went off, but it was swallowed by her anger.

Keeping her eyes on the operation, she said in a dead calm, “Tell me about the shooter.” Her mind was already running through the shooter’s death. She’d kill him herself. That was what she did best, anyway.

“He’s fast, strong. Had a metal arm,” Steve replied. He sounded so calm, as if this didn’t change everything.

She couldn’t stop herself from sucking in a tiny breath of surprise as her fingers moved subconsciously to a spot just above her left hip. Her fingers lightly traced the scar tissue as her mind raced with memories. First the good ones: the soft hands along her waist, the even softer lips pressed against hers, the word Natalia whispered in her ear like a beautiful secret. Then came the bad: the day they took him away, her final test in the Red Room, the way their eyes met in Odessa right before he pulled the trigger.

She opens her mouth to ask, but has to try again before anything comes out. “Ballistics?”

All she wants is for Hill to say anything, anything at all other than what she does, “Three slugs, no rifling, completely untraceable.”

Now there was no denying it. He was there. James, her James. Her mouth moved without her permission, “Soviet made.” That was his mantra, and as much as she hated what it had done, she almost relished saying it because it was familiar. It was him.

“Yeah,” Hill confirmed.

On the other side of the glass, the machines began to beep more frantically. Natasha’s head was spinning from everything she had just learned, but as the machines began to beep she had to keep herself from panicking. Nick Fury was dying. And James was the one who had shot him. The doctors started to run, fumbling with the machines and shouting medical jargon that meant nothing to her. Her entire world was swirling colors and shouting voices and the body of Nick Fury laying lifeless on the table. And James. The ghost of James everywhere in her mind in the form of swirling memories.

To her astonishment, she felt a lump forming in her throat and had to focus on controlling herself so she wouldn’t cry. _Don’t be weak, Natalia. Emotions are weakness_ , she could hear it in her mind as she whispered, “Don’t do this to me, Nick.” _Don’t let me break down. Don’t make me feel. Please, not now. Not when I was just starting to forget_. And then she had to remind herself to keep breathing, to not cry, to not whimper as they failed once, twice to revive him. And then not to lose it, not to let herself go. She whispered something, a last plea of hope even as she felt herself numbing over.

She was getting too close to these emotions, she was being weak. It was time to shut down, to go back to that Natasha that she became after James. To that Natasha that she had just started to push back. She needed to be the Black Widow again. Nick Fury was dead, and James shot him. No, James killed him. And he didn’t care about her anymore. The only proof she needed of that was the scar to remind her of the bullet wound and the agony. Not the physical pain, but the pain of seeing him again, and the pain of those empty eyes that saw right through her. She had completely shut down once she vaguely heard the doctor say, “Time of death: 1:03 a.m.”

Everything was blurry after that.

She vaguely remembered standing by the body until Steve made her leave. Her cheeks had been wet, and she had been so angry with herself for crying. Steve’s eyes were kind, but they just made her angry. She didn’t need anyone’s sympathy. She wasn’t weak.

The numbness wasn’t working. She could feel the anger welling up inside her like a disgusting parasite. _Passion makes you weak_. She didn’t even realize that she was storming away until Steve said, “Natasha!”

And then suddenly, the clouds cleared and the calculating, dangerous Natasha, the powerful Natasha, came back. That little alarm that had been going off this whole time was finally acknowledged. “Why was Fury in your apartment?” she spat back at Steve after whirling around.

Steve tried to feign ignorance. He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “I don’t know,” he replied with mock confusion. He should have known better than to lie to her. Really, he wasn’t even a good liar, much less a good enough one to make her believe him.

Rumlow walked up to Steve, clearly unaware that this was a tense moment for them. “Cap, they want you back at SHIELD.”

Steve nodded, “Yeah, give me a second.” He turned back to Natasha to finish their conversation but Rumlow butt in.

“They want you now,” Rumlow interjected. Natasha frowned. There was something off about that, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Now there was a hint of annoyance in Steve’s voice, “Okay,” he said, effectively dismissing Rumlow, who retreated to the background once more.

When Steve turned back to Natasha, she shook her head, saying, “You’re a terrible liar.” She held his eyes for a moment before turning with an angry flourish and leaving.

Memories flooded her mind as she walked.

Step.

_James walking through the door of the party, easily the best looking man there. He looks like he owns the place, with his easy swagger. He sits down at the bar next to her, and his blue grey eyes meet hers._

Step.

_James’s hands brushing the hair from her eyes as the gun falls from her hands and clatters on the floor. “I-I thought that I could do it,” her eyes are teary when they look up at him._

_He embraces her like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And when he whispers, “I know,” she feels something again. Something that she never thought she would ever again. She feels so human in that moment that it hurts to think she could have ever been such a monster, but the gun on the ground reminds her she can’t escape the past._

Step.

_She keeps waking up from those awful nightmares tangled in his arms. And she feels safe and so vulnerable, so human. She knows he wakes up from nightmares of his own and feels the same. She wonders just how long this can really last, but he shifts to wrap his arms tighter around her when she moves to get up, so she just smiles and runs a hand through his hair, relishing the feel of the cold of his metal arm versus the warmth of his normal one._

Step.

_She hasn’t seen him in so long, that she can’t control herself. Running into his arms, she just enjoys the way his hands feel in her hair, and the way they both move together like they were made to do this. Made for each other. When they both come up for air, he whispers, “Natalia,” in her ear. She loves the way it sounds, like he’s savoring it, like he lives to whisper that word in her ear. But this time he goes on, “They know.”_

_And as she pulls away, she can tell that the fear those two words have inspired in her is all over her face, and she sees it reflected in his._

Step, step, step.

She started walking faster, and the memories blurred and swirled together, every beautiful moment breaking and blending together like a painting.

She was knocked out of her haze when she realized that she’d made a circle and was standing in front of the vending machine where she and Steve had argued. Another little alarm bell was going off in the back of her mind as she leaned her back against the wall and slid down slowly. She took a few minutes to slow and steady her breathing, pushing the memories to the bottom of her mind. The little alarm bell was still going off, telling her that something was wrong with this picture, so she scanned the scene. It only took her one diligent and methodical sweep to see it. There, in the vending machine behind the bubble gum was something metallic and shiny. She recognized it almost immediately as the flash drive she had uploaded the information from the Lemurian Star into. Standing up, she searched her pocket for change. 

And after she'd stuffed the flashdrive and three packs of gum into her pocket, a different kind of memory came to her. 

_There's the sound of two gunshots as the car careens toward the cliff. Natasha acts so fast, she hardly has time to recognize that she's throwing the door open and pulling herself and the engineer out and onto the dirt road. She rolls as she hits, and sees him doing the same. She rolls into a standing position, running to the engineer and pulling her gun from her holster. Quickly, she starts to usher him up and away, holding her gun out in front of her even though she can't see with the dust and the smoke._

_They don't get three feet before a figure emerges from the smoke. Natasha instinctively fires a shot at him, but he easily dodges it. And that's when she really sees him._

_Her eyes soften as she gently calls, "James?" and lowers her gun. The memories are flashing through her mind, but they're cut off by the sound of a gunshot._

_She tackles her engineer to the ground on instinct, covering him with her body. Looking back to James, she meets his eyes. Those blue eyes that she loves so much, but they look right through her like they don't even know her. They hold her gaze nonetheless, and for a moment she thinks he's going to put the gun down._

_Just for a moment, before he pulls the trigger._


End file.
